Thank you for your continued support. I appreciate it more than I could say.
Standard disclaimer.
"Join me for dinner," Arthur said to Gwen, sitting on her bed. She put down her book.
"It's nine o'clock. I've already eaten."
"Then, you can eat dessert," he suggested.
"Rough day?" she asked, not immune to his weary expression.
"Will you or won't you, join me for dinner?"
"I will," she said, rising gingerly to her feet. She'd gotten wind of a portion of his day, and she'd have to be heartless, to shun him at the moment.
"How could a girl resist such a charming invitation?"
"I used all my restraint, with one of my advisors today."
"I heard," she said, and limped beside him down the hall. Arthur threw a sharp glance at her.
"From whom?"
"Dr. Henry. He checked my bandage today." Arthur relaxed slightly, then glanced at her foot.
"Perhaps I should carry you." She put her hands in front of her.
"Oh, no. I won't win any ballerina contests, but I can get wherever we're going under my own steam."
"Take my arm, then," he said, extending his arm. When she hesitated, he raised a blonde eyebrow. "Or I will carry you."
"Pushy, pushy, pushy," she whispered under her breath and took his arm.
They traveled down one hall, took two turns, then climbed a short set of stairs.
"Where are we going?" she asked, as he opened the door.
"My quarters," he said, and Gwen almost turned around. He must have sensed her apprehension.
"Chocolate-covered strawberries for dessert," he said, and led her into a plush but, masculine room, with carved mahogany furniture.
On the west end of the room, a serving table stood, with a sumptuous spread, in front of a door, leading to a balcony.
"That looks nice," she admitted. "I'm surprised you didn't have a server."
"At the end of days like this, I'm in no mood for politeness."
"Then, why did you invite me?" she asked, using the term 'invite' loosely.
"I knew you wouldn't be polite," he said, and grinned. Gwen laughed in spite of herself.
"Okay. Are we sitting on the balcony?"
"We are. I have some wine to go with your chocolate, and after I eat dinner, I may smoke a cigar," he said, as they moved onto the balcony terrace.
"That's nasty," she said, pushing the wooden cart onto the terrace. When she lifted the tray, he took it from her and set it on the table.
"Pardon?"
"I said, that's nasty. Cigars are nasty, but I won't keep you from smoking one, if that is what floats your boat. Heaven knows, you don't have a lot of room for vices."
Gwen took in her surroundings, the wrought-iron table and chairs with cushions, the bougainvillea and the view of the green garden below.
"This is lovely," she said.
"It's peaceful at the end of the day. Please sit," he said, gesturing to a chair. Then, he pulled his tie loose and took his seat.
He lifted the sterling cover from the plate and poured a glass of wine for both of them.
On a china plate, sat three chilled chocolate-dipped strawberries.
"Now, those are beautiful strawberries."
"Enjoy," he said, and his voice held a tinge of tantalizing seduction.
Unable to resist, Gwen picked up one of the berries and inhaled the aroma of dark chocolate.
She took a bite and closed her eyes at the delicious taste.
Sighing, she opened her eyes and caught Arthur's intense gaze on her mouth.
Her lips tingled.
She cleared her throat, tried to clear her mind and decided to broach a subject, she had considered lately.
"I think it would be a good idea for Andrew to learn to swim." Arthur's fork stopped mid-motion.
"No," he said, simply, quietly.
"Why not? He's certainly old enough." He swallowed another bite
"Safety issues."
"Safety?" she said. "You're teaching him to stab people, with a sharp object and you're concerned about water safety?"
"That's different," he said.
"How?" she challenged. He sighed.
"The swimming lessons have been delayed, as a concession to my mother. One of my brothers...my real brother...drowned, when he was three years old, and the family never really got over it."
Gwen felt a stab of empathy.
"Oh, I'm sorry. That must have been terrible."
"It was. My mother overreacts at the mention of swimming lessons. The situation is complicated, by the fact that, my mother is the queen. The time is soon coming, however, when she will yield on this issue."
Gwen nodded, hearing the rock-hard resolution in his voice.
"A difficult predicament, but since Wales is surrounded by water, it makes more sense for Andrew to be protected by learning, than ignorance."
"Agreed," Arthur said, meeting her gaze, and she felt a connection resonate between them.
When Arthur looked at her, he really looked at her.
She could almost swear, he was searching her mind. And the notion made her chest grow tight, with an odd, unnamed emotion.
She took a sip of wine, to break the intensity of the moment.
"I understand one of your advisors was a pain today."
"Yes," he said, taking a bite of rice. Her lips twitched. Even now he was reluctant to criticize the advisor. She found that both admirable and amusing.
"How did you learn to be so diplomatic?"
"It took years," he said, taking a sip of wine and leaning back in his chair. "There are practical reasons for being diplomatic. One, you get less press, if you keep a low profile and don't throw temper tantrums. Two, people tend to magnify and exaggerate things I say."
"But don't you find it incredibly stifling?"
"Sometimes more than others. I don't dwell on it. Presenting a boring outward appearance, reduces hassle."
"But you're not boring," she insisted.
"How do you know?" he asked, his gaze falling over her like a warm breeze. Her heart flipped, but she tried to ignore it.
"Because, you just aren't. You're intelligent, you're multidimensional, and..." she said, hesitating.
"And?" he prompted.
"And, you have a huge ego, so I probably shouldn't say anymore," she said with a grin.
"No, that's not it," he said, leaning forward, studying her. "What were you about to say?"
Gwen took a moment to collect her thoughts.
Her thoughts and feelings for Arthur, were far more complicated, than they should be, but she sensed, more than anything, Arthur needed her honesty.
It was crazy to think such a man, would need anything from her, but she suspected that he did.
"I think, what makes a person interesting, is passion, and although you may not be emotionally demonstrative, I get the impression, you're very passionate about Wales and your son, and your family."
She lifted her glass to him in a silent toast, then said,
"But we've digressed from my original subject, about your advisor. I understand he was mean. Would you like me to beat him up?"
Arthur leaned back his head and laughed, and the sound slithered down her nerve endings. He looked at her and shook his head.
"The queen would not approve of you." She tilted her head to one side, uncertain how she felt about that.
"I guess it's a good thing, I won't be around long enough, to try to impress her." His smile faded, and he took another sip of wine.
"You have no wish to marry me, do you?" She looked at him in concern.
"Absolutely not," she said. "It's nothing personal," she added hastily. "I mean, you're handsome and very intelligent. Your sense of humor needs a little work, and you're a bit bossy, but most men in your position would be. You don't appear to have any terrible habits, and I imagine you're great in the sack, but…"
He made a choking sound.
"Pardon?" She rolled her eyes.
"Ego, ego, ego. Men are all alike," she muttered. "I said, I imagine you're great in the sack."
"What makes you say that?"
"Well...the way you kiss," she said, feeling a rush of warmth, at the memory of the kiss they'd shared.
"You kiss like nobody's business," she continued, feeling her cheeks heat, because, she'd run off at the mouth.
"But there's a flip side, and it's your job. Your schedule is worse than a doctor's. You're on call twenty-four hours a day, three hundred and sixty-five days a year, with a thousand suffocating rules."
"Thank you for reminding me," he said in a dry tone.
"Sorry," she started. "Was I supposed to make you forget?"
"Yes," he said with a nod and an expression in his eyes, that did strange things to her stomach.
"How was I supposed to do that?" she asked.
He reached across the table, took her hand and gently tugged.
The pull was an invitation, not an order, and the gentle insistence of the gesture, slid passed her defenses.
He held her gaze, as she rose from her chair, to stand in front of him.
His title did nothing for her, but the man drew her in. In a deeply elemental way. Her defensiveness dipped a little more. She bit her lip.
"I'm all wrong for you," she warned him. "Your advisors would advise you, to stay away from me."
"I've disagreed with the advisors more than once. They've been wrong more than once."
His gaze hardened slightly, hinting at the dangerous steel, his smooth exterior belied.
He lifted her hand to his lips, then, turned it over and brushed his mouth against the inside of her wrist.
Her heart stuttered.
She felt as if she were in quicksand and sinking fast.
'Help!' she begged her rational mind, as a mixture of desperation and arousal clouded her thoughts.
"I think I know what you need," she said. His gaze burned her inside and out.
"What?"
"A chocolate-covered strawberry." Without missing a beat, Arthur said,
"Then, feed one to me."
Gwen's mouth went dry.
She hadn't prepared for that response.
Then again, her mind was so muddled, she was doing well to plan her next breath.
"Feed one to me," he repeated, with just a hint of a challenge.
Better the strawberry than her, she supposed.
Tearing her gaze from his, she took a berry from the plate and gingerly lifted it to his lips.
Arthur slid his tongue over the bottom and nipped the edge.
The movement was so sensual, Gwen was sure her temperature had risen, at least, three degrees.
When he sucked a portion of the fruit into his mouth, she bit her lip.
It was all too easy, to imagine his mouth, doing the same kind of wicked things on her body. A piece of the chocolate cracked loose.
"You need to hurry or I might drop it," she said.
"You're not close enough," he told her, and with a quick tug, Gwen found herself in his lap.
He closed his hand around hers, guiding the delicacy into his mouth, in the same way she suspected, he would guide her through lovemaking.
His gaze held hers, as he took one last bite, then drew her finger into his mouth.
The gesture was so blatantly sensual, she closed her eyes.
"Look at me," he urged. She opened her eyes to slits.
"I'm trying very hard to stay rational here, and you're not helping."
"I find that when I keep hitting a wall, I need to try a different approach."
"I hesitate to heed your advice on this issue," she said, her voice wryly husky. "It's a little like, taking Andrew's advice during a game of chess."
"Then, I'll offer the same advice, I think you would give me in this situation." She was caught between extreme curiosity and arousal.
"What would that be?"
"Forget rational," he said, and pulled her face closer.
"You are just too dangerous," she accused him. "You give this impression of being totally rational and careful...Prince perfect."
"So, you know my secret. I'm a man with a man's needs. And I need you," he told her, and her mouth.
Splaying his fingers through her hair, he guided her lips over his.
Gwen felt totally surrounded by his warmth and strength, as if she sat in a sensual cocoon, that consisted of the way Arthur felt, tasted and smelled.
Still kissing her, Arthur shifted her slightly, so that she straddled his lap.
He pressed his hand against her back, until her belly was flush with his.
And though they were both clothed, she was acutely conscious, of the way her inner thighs hugged his hips.
He slid his hands down her arms, then to her hips, pressing his palms against the bare skin, beneath her shirt, and she shivered at the seductive sensation.
He boldly skimmed his hands up the sides of her breasts and her heart hammered in her chest.
"What are you doing?" she breathlessly asked, leaning back.
His eyes and hands did the talking, and they said he was totally focused on her.
His intense, undivided attention, did terrible things to her ability to think and breathe.
He released her bra in one fluid motion and caressed her breasts with his fingers.
"Come closer," he said, and the undertone of need in his voice, broke down her defenses.
He was the most powerful, fascinating man, she's ever known, yet he wanted her.
Everything about him represented her most forbidden, seductive dare.
He was a dark winding road, that she couldn't pass by.
She kissed him, while he stroked her nipples to taut little peaks of pleasure and a decadent need built inside her.
Lifting her shirt off, Arthur moved his mouth from her lips to her breasts and shifted his hips for a better caress.
As he licked and suckle her nipples, he rocked into and against her.
Through her shorts and his slacks, Gwen felt his hardness stroking her, heating her and it was all too easy, to imagine sitting on his lap, with nothing between them.
And, it was all too easy, to imagine his strong thighs supporting her, while he pumped inside her.
She couldn't swallow the moan that escaped her or the next one, when he slid his hands beneath her shorts, gently squeezing her bottom, while he moved her over him.
She unbuttoned his shirt and filled her palms with the touch of his rock hard muscles beneath smooth, hot skin.
The scent of sexual madness filled the night air.
"I want you," he muttered, his hands restless, as if he couldn't get enough of her.
His mouth took hers in a carnal kiss, his tongue seducing, blatantly mimicking, a more basic joining between the two of them.
Gwen had never felt such a driving need, a want that hinted at desperation.
She heard a ringing in her ears and wondered if she was going crazy.
The ringing continued, as Arthur pulled his mouth from hers. It was his phone.
Her vision became hazy, as she stared at him, while their harsh breaths rent the air.
His eyes were black with sexual want, and his lips swollen.
The expression on his face was so honest, it knocked on her heart and plucked at every feminine nerve ending, in her body.
The phone rang again and he swore viciously.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I must answer this. The only calls I receive in my quarters at this hour, are of utmost urgency."
Gwen nodded and tried to stand.
Her legs felt like gelatin. When she slid from his lap, she nearly fell, but Arthur's hands shot out to steady her.
"Okay?" he asked, his gaze searching hers. Feeling entirely too vulnerable, she waved her hands.
"I'll be fine. I just need to catch my breath. Please get the phone."
Whew! Arthur isn't playing. He wants her like yesterday and he's not afraid to go after what he wants.
Stay home, stay safe and stay blessed.